These Are The Voyages Of The SSV Normandy
by 570K4
Summary: After the Reaper war, Shepard is getting on the Council's nerves. Their elegant solution is to send her on a four year mission into deep space, to seek out new life and civilizations, to explore strange new worlds... But when the Normandy leaves charted space, they end up a little farther from home than they expected. Rated M for crude humor, language, and other stuff to come.
1. Chapter 1

**Author notes: Thanks for reading everyone. I intend to make this a pretty long story, adding new chapters like episodes. Don't worry, more will be forthcoming, and I am looking for input. See closing notes for more info.**

**.**

* * *

"Shepard is becoming a problem. She's a rallying point, a symbol. She's gaining a following. It's only a matter of time before she seizes power, makes us all her puppets."

"How dare you. Shepard saved our lives when Cerberus attacked the Citadel. She's a hero. Of course she's going to have fans. She stopped the Reapers. And remember we were the ones that made her a hero, made her a symbol."

"Yes, when we needed one. She was meant to unite the galaxy against the Reapers. She was never meant to survive the war."

"So what are you suggesting, that we dispose of her? That's petty, even for you, Tevos."

"You two can take the moral high ground if you wish, but just don't turn your back on her. She's killed one Councillor already."

"She did us a favor there. Udina was a corrupt, self serving, varren."

"But that's just my point. She's a soldier. She sees everything in black and white. Or is it blue and red these days?"

"So you're saying she's colorblind?"

"What? No, listen. She came to a situation where killing Udina furthered her goals. So she shot him. No hesitation, no second thoughts. If we stood in the way of something she wanted, she would do the same to us, walk over our bullet ridden corpses, and the Galaxy would still cheer for commander Shepard."

"Enough with your moral bickering. What do you mean to do about her?"

"Well I don't know, that's why I started this conversation."

"I miss the old days where we snapped our fingers and the Spectres asked how high."

"You need to practice your human expressions."

"You know what I mean. Back before Shepard came along, spreading ideas that everyone has the right and responsibility to question their orders, anyone that so much as looked at us the wrong way would be taking a one way journey into a deep space exploration mission without a helmet."

"Hold on, I think you might be on to something."

"She got spaced once, it only shut her up for two years."

"But that was a nice, quiet two years."

"So when this assassination fails, how long do you expect to last?" "

"No, we don't kill her. We send her out on a deep space exploration mission. It's perfect, it gets Shepard out of sight, and the general public will love it."

"She'll see right through that."

"No she won't. All we have to do is say 'Commander Shepard. No one else can complete this mission.' She's going to jump right in. We can round up her old crew, send them along too. That pack of idiots is almost as bad as she is. If I have to hear Vakarian telling that reach and flexibility story one more time..."

"I like it. Make it happen."

* * *

.

* * *

_**Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Normandy. It's four year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and civilizations, to go boldly, where no man, woman, or monogendered alien has gone before...**_

* * *

.

* * *

Shepard stood near the helm of the Normandy, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Can you believe this Joker?" She asked the pilot. "This is the biggest step towards proper deep space exploration in the history of any Council species."

"Yeah, it was pretty funny to see the Council do their usual 'you're the only one we can count on' thing." Joker chuckled. "They haven't had to use that one since the Reaper war."

"I'm just glad we have something to do." Shepard said. "And it's something the Council doesn't hate the thought of."

"Hell yeah" Joker exclaimed. "They even rounded up most of the old crew. I mean, Kelly Chambers is even here. Oh, man, if EDI and I weren't together-"

"I am right here Jeff." EDI said, looking over from the co-pilot's seat, as she prepared the ships computer systems for takeoff.

"Yes you are EDI," Joker answered. "And inviting a third partner into intimate situations is not the same social stigma it was 200 years ago."

EDI paused for a moment. "I have scanned the net, and determined that you are indeed correct. Furthermore I agree wholeheartedly with your proposal."

"Wait, you what!" Joker exclaimed, an incredulous expression on his face.

"Yes, Jeff." EDI stated. "With your approval, I would like to ask lieutenant commander Vega to join us in our next session of sexual activity."

There was a long pause, during which Joker's terrified eyes went wider than Shepard would have thought possible.

"That was a joke."

* * *

.

* * *

**30 minutes later.**

"This is Citadel Docking Authorities to SSV Normandy, your supplies and fuel are loaded and you are cleared to launch."

Shepard glanced out the cockpit window to see the cheering crowds gathered at every view-port, waving signs, flashing banners. Then, Joker cycled the core to life, the docking clamps disengaging as he flared the maneuvering thrusters, steering the Normandy away from the Citadel and into the purple nebula.

"As much as I love this mission, I just can't get over these new uniforms." he said, tugging at the collar of his tight fitting gold sweater.

"Tell me about it." Shepard muttered, glancing down at her own. "These things are hideous. There's even a rumor going around that the red ones are cursed."

"What, no," Joker said, smiling and glancing sideways at EDI's chest, tightly clad in gold. "These uniforms are the shit."

"We are clear of the Citadel." EDI stated. "We can now engage the experimental warp drive."

Joker sighed. "This Salarian contraption better not explode when we boot it up. What was wrong with Mass relays anyway?"

"Well, now we aren't dependent on them for travel." Shepard said, bristling with impatience. "There's thousands of systems out there that don't have Mass Relays within reasonable distance. Nobody's ever been out there before. Who knows what we might find."

"This is engineering." Donnely's heavily accented voice came over the conn. "This new warp reactor is spun up and ready to go."

"If you would do the honors." Shepard said, leaning on the back of Joker's chair and staring into the starry abyss. "Please set a course for somewhere man has not gone boldly already."

"Hold on, this is a historical moment. It needs music." Joker said, clearing his throat.

"It's been a long road, getting from there to here." He sang, horribly off key. "It's been a long road, and my-"

"Joker, I will put you on vent cleaning detail for the next four years." Shepard said.

"What?" he said, eyes going wide and innocent. "It seemed like a good way to start of an enterprise of this magnitude." He sighed. "Okay, fine. Laying in course now, commander."

"Engage." Shepard said, as the warp drive spun to life, the stars distorting around them, and the Normandy hurtled through space like a bullet from a gun.

* * *

.

* * *

Closing notes:

And that is the introduction. Now, I have general plans for a few more chapters, but am accepting any and all input for some of the strange new worlds the Normandy might explore. I intend to have them end up in the Star Trek universe soon, and meet their counterparts.

The great benefit of this type of story is that although I am primarily aiming for humor, I can write an "episode" in whatever genre suits it. I might have a horror chapter where they get chased around in some mining tunnels by Gorn and Thresher Maws, or a romantic one where two crewmembers get stranded on an uninhabited planet and the learn something about life and love.

If anyone has suggestions or concept ideas for places they could visit, or plot ideas, please drop a review or PM me. As per my usual MO, I am am making this up as I go.

Edits have begun, thanks to everyone who reviewed and helped with the process.


	2. Chapter 2

**"Commander Shepard's mission log, day 2 of the deep space exploration mission. It is our first full day in deep space. We left the Widow nebula, under the power of our new warp drive, and are proceeding into the uncharted space, not accessible via mass relay. Experts tell me that there are thousands of systems in the galaxy, that remain unexplored, due to the lack on an adjacent relay, each one possibly teeming with strange new life."**

**"The distance we have traveled so far would have taken two months by conventional FTL drive. This truly is a new era for not just humanity, but all the races of the galaxy. My eagerness to explore new planets, is matched, only by my sense of wonder and awe of the majestic glory of the stars around me. I can scarcely imagine what wonders the crew will report at the morning briefing."**

* * *

.

"So, in summary, the sensors have detected two micro-comets, 426 new types of interstellar dust, and an asteroid." Liara said.

"Space dust?" Shepard said, eyes going wide.

"Yes, commander, that is correct." Liara answered. "Dr. Mordin is absent from the morning meeting because he was up all night running tests. Something about a space virus that gets people drunk and increases libido. Honestly, I figured he needed the sleep at that point."

"You just told me that you guys found space dust, in space." Shepard groaned, rubbing her temples. "Liara, I'm never going to get that thirty seconds of my life back. In summary, you've got nothing to report for the science department. Next up, security brief."

Grunt stood, red sweater stretching almost to the limit around his massive frame.

"First Lieutenant Grunt reporting with the morning security briefing, commander." Grunt said, saluting.

"Quit stalling, Grunt." Shepard said, waving her hand dismissively. "I know you don't have anything."

"Oh on the contrary, commander." Grunt rumbled, a predatory smile forming. "I have reports of a security breach. There is reason to believe that someone is on the ship who shouldn't be here. The only question, is this a spy that stowed away when we were docked on the Citadel?" he paused for dramatic effect. "Or did they come from," he extended a stubby finger toward the outer hull, "out there?"

Shepard perked up. "An intruder?" She drew her pistol and checked it was properly loaded. "And possibly some sort of space dwelling energy creature too. We're going to start a deck by deck sweep. Issue out heavy weapons to all combat personnel. Grunt, tell me everything that happened."

The other members of the briefing scrambled into action as Grunt leaned forward.

"This morning when I got up, the toy Mako you got me for my birthday, was gone. Along with my entire stash of fruit roll ups. Just vanished into thin air." Grunt shook his head. "I'm gonna find the little pyjak that did this, and that's a promise, commander."

"Damn it, Grunt." Shepard muttered under her breath. "Hold on everybody, stand down, false alarm. Grunt lost his toy, false alarm."

The rest of the command staff filed back into the meeting room.

"So what you're saying is, Grunt, is that you have nothing to report?" Shepard said, eyes going a dangerous shade of green.

"But, commander, I-"

Shepard cocked her head to the side a little.

"Nothing to report, commander." Grunt mumbled, a crestfallen expression on his face.

"And moving on to tactical." Shepard said.

Garrus opened his mouth.

"I'm guessing that you're calibrating," Shepard said, cutting him off. "Do you have anything else to report?"

Garrus crossed his arms, saying nothing, as he leaned back in his chair, staring very fixedly at the ceiling.

"Fine, go ahead and pout." Shepard continued. "Engineering?"

"Warp drive and conventional drive core are good to go." Tali reported.

There was a long pause as Shepard looked around the room. "You see guys, that was perfect. I want more reports like that. Medical?"

"Medical bay is prepped and ready." Dr. Chakwas said. "This is a deep space mission, so it's only a matter of time until crewmembers start reporting to sick call saying they tripped and fell on their toothbrush, which just happened to get lodged somewhere sensitive, but nothing out of the ordinary yet."

"Noted." Shepard answered, smirking. "Everyone be sure to tie a string to your toothbrush so it doesn't get stuck." She looked at EDI. "EDI, you're pretty much your own station. Anything to report?"

"No, commander." EDI said, her silver face expressionless.

"That surprises me, but excellent." Shepard said, flipping her notebook shut. "Now I have a lot of work to do, so I'll be all around this morning. If you need me, ask EDI."

"You don't have a lot of work to do!" Tali said accusingly. "You're just going to wander around and talk to people."

"And it's nice to see you too, after all these years." Shepard muttered, putting on her best kicked puppy face.

The command staff chuckled, as they filed out of the conference room, past a blonde man in a red sweater, facing toward the window and typing intently into his omni tool.

I should probably learn everybody's names, Shepard thought to herself. I feel like that guy has been around for years. Starting now, I am going to get to know the crew better. The next time I walk by him, I am going to know his name.

.

* * *

**"Commander's log, day 2, 0640 hours. My morning duties complete, I will now inspect the crew, as they go about their tasks and responsibilities. This truly is the best, most disciplined crew I could have asked for."**

* * *

.

"So..." Shepard said, leaning against a stack of crates in the shuttle bay. "I see you haven't gotten busted for steroids yet."

"Hell no, commander." Vega said, finishing his set of chin ups, sweat dripping off his shirt. He let go of the bar and dropped back to the floor. "Although, in an unrelated matter, are you planning on doing drug tests while we're out here?"

.

* * *

Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 2, 0643 hours

* * *

.

"What in the hell is wrong with this elevator?" Shepard shouted to the empty cargo lift. "An asthmatic Volus could climb a ladder faster than this thing. Why couldn't we keep the stairwells?"

.

* * *

Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 2, 0644 hours

* * *

.

"Finally." Shepard muttered, stepping out onto the crew deck. It was fairly crowded, as the night watch had just gotten off duty and was eating breakfast before going to sleep. She headed for the med lab/science department to talk to Mordin, but made a sharp left when she saw that same red-shirted blonde guy doing maintenance on an exposed panel ahead of her.

Buying some time to go look up his name on a crew manifest, she jogged up to the main battery doors, which opened to reveal Garrus typing away on the thanix cannon control console.

"Can it wait for a minute?" Garrus said, looking over his shoulder. "I'm in the middle of some calibrations."

Garrus returned to his work, staring straight ahead, determined to ignore Shepard, who stepped to his left and leaned a hip against the console. "So if I wait for five minutes, would you talk to me then?"

"Nope, calibrations are going all day." Garrus answered, a smug expression flitting across his face.

"This is because I made fun of you in the briefing, isn't it." Shepard asked.

"Damn right." Garrus chuckled. "I was going to tell you a dirty story and everything, but then you went and hurt my feelings."

"Oh, come on, Garrus." Shepard whined. "Your dirty stories are the best. They're so unintentionally funny and awkward."

"Sorry, commander," Garrus said, mandibles raising in a Turian grin. "This thing really needs the calibrations done."

"Asshole." Shepard muttered under her breath.

.

* * *

Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 2, 0649 hours

* * *

.

"Gardner?" Shepard hissed to the cook.

"Yes, commander?" Sgt Gardner whispered back, turning to face her.

"Do you know everyone on the ship?" Shepard asked, her voice low.

"Well," he thought for a moment, wiping his hands on his apron. "yeah, pretty much. Why are we whispering?"

"Don't worry about that." Shepard said, pointing at the blonde man in the red sweater, who was standing, back to them, still fiddling with the wall panel, digging around in his tool pouch for something. "Who's that guy."

"You mean Hawke?" Gardner said, inclining his head to the tall officer who walked out of the med bay. "He's the requisitions guy, apparently he used to serve on the SR-1 with you."

"No, not him." Shepard dismissed impatiently, turning back to face Gardner. "The guy working on the panel."

"Who, the guy next to the open panel, eating a fruit roll up?" Gardner asked, eyes narrowing, "I've never seen him before."

"Yeah, the guy that, wait, he's what?"

She turned back to the mysterious crewman, who was unwrapping a fruit roll up. His small bag lay on the floor, a model of a Mako transport vehicle sticking out the top.

Shepard's pistol was drawn in an instant, and she was sprinting across the room towards him.

"Hey you!" She shouted, the barrel of her pistol coming up to cover him.

He leaped into action, turning and slipping into the med bay, Shepard close behind. Once inside, he paused, looking around wildly for an exit, Dr. Chakwas and Mordin looking up from their work, just as Shepard holstered her pistol and tackled him around the waist, the two of them crashing into a tray of vials, falling to the floor in a cacophony of clashing metal and breaking glass.

"Commander, you need to-" Chakwas started, as Shepard flipped the man over to face her, spreading the interstellar dust samples across the lab.

"Oh, no." She said, stepping back from the impostor, eyes going wide. "Not you, anybody but you."

Conrad Verner sat up, brushing the grey dust off his sweater and rubbing at his forehead.

"Okay, I know this looks bad," he started, "But I was really excited about the mission, and I thought I would just sneak on the ship for a minute, but then-."

Mordin leaped to his feet, running to the door and closing it, initiating an emergency seal.

"Commander," He said, eyes wide. "dust samples home to an unknown pathogen, possibly viral, no, lack of necessary vectors, contains no DNA, no organic structure, irrelevant. Pathogen affects all organic species currently scanned, induces feelings of euphoria, decreases cognitive and motor control, alters decision making skills, increases libido, other, minor effects. Currently no known cure."

Shepard blinked. "So it's a space virus that makes everyone drunk and-." She put her face in her hands, groaning. "Liara said something about it. You've got to be kidding me."

"Well, now we're all exposed, thanks to you two geniuses scuffling in the Med bay, knocking over sample tubes." Chakwas said, an accusing glare falling on Shepard and Conrad.

"So let me get this straight." Conrad said, a grin sneaking onto his face. "We've all been exposed to some sort of drunken sex virus, and the four of us are locked in a small room for the foreseeable future."

Dr. Chakwas flicked her eyes to Mordin for the briefest of moments. "I am afraid so." she concluded.

"This is an amazing coincidence," Conrad said, excitedly. "I read this fanfiction once, where a few members of the Normandy crew got this virus that makes them really horny, and the only way to cure it is to-"

"Conrad." Shepard said, tapping the butt of her pistol. "I will shoot you in the face if you finish that sentence"


	3. Chapter 3

"**Commander's log, day 2. Due to freak circumstances beyond my control, a dangerous, psychotropic virus has been released on the Normandy. Thanks to my quick thinking and fondness for procedure, It has been contained to the Med-Bay, which is currently under quarantine. Present in the bay, are Dr. Chakwas, Dr. Mordin, some stupid assho-, uh, Conrad Verner, and myself. It is a testament to the discipline of the crew, that despite the effects of the virus, we still maintain our discipline and professionalism."  
**

* * *

"Pathogen is beginning to affect me." Mordin stated. "Decreased motor skills and intelligence, evident. Warm and fuzzy sensation present in chest."

The medical bay was sealed, any air exchange from life support was filtered through the best systems that the Alliance had to offer. The bay had a flat, dull, deadness to it, every voice or action seeming unusually loud. Shepard sat, cross legged on the floor, between a rolling cart of surgical equipment, and a chemical synthesizer panel.

"Mordin, why don't you take a break from that." Dr. Chakwas said, leaning back in her desk chair, meeting Mordin's eyes over the row of neatly made hospital beds. "I have a bottle of Serrice Ice brandy in the bottom drawer over here, and you look like the perfect one to share it with."

"Doctor, this is not an appropriate course of action." Mordin answered, blinking several times and trying to focus on his console screen. "My knowledge of human mating rituals suggests a 76.2% chance that you will attempt to initiate sexual contact."

"Oh just go and have a drink with her, Mordin" Shepard said from where she sat, cross legged, on the floor. "It's not like you're going to get more drunk."

Mordin blinked his huge eyes a few times and turned to regard Shepard. "A surprisingly logical observation, considering your past record." He stepped carefully over to the desk, sitting down next to Chakwas. "Decision making skills now compromised. The likelihood of-"

"Shh, have a drink, doctor, relax a little." Chakwas soothed him, pressing a tumbler of brandy into his hands as she gave Shepard a sly wink.

"Sooooo, Shepard." Conrad started, walking over.

"Nope, not nearly drunk enough for that." Shepard said, closing her eyes and wishing she was anywhere else.

A pleasant, floating sensation had filled her, her limbs deliciously relaxed, a gentle heat of arousal was brewing in her, and she was stuck in a room with her doctor, a mad scientist, and Conrad Verner. Just my luck, she thought.

Then the medbay door opened, and Tali walked in, familiar purple environmental suit hugging her curves, surveying the scene from behind her visor, eyes lingering on Mordin and Chakwas, who were sitting very close together. Then she saw Conrad.

"Is your suit rated for space dust stuff?" Shepard asked, getting to her feet, head spinning a little. "Either way, what's up?"

"Hold on," Tali yelped accusingly, a finger jabbing out in Conrad's direction. "What's this bosh'tet doing here? I wasn't allowed to invite Kal'Reegar, but you get to bring your ultimate fanboy?"

"What, no!" Shepard protested, "He stowed away or something. Once I sober up, we really need to go over our security." She paused, "so what are you doing down here anyway?"

"Well," Tali answered, shouldering Conrad out of the way to step to a bank of medical equipment and switching on her omni-tool. "None of the other crew is reporting symptoms, so it would appear the quarantine was succesful."

"Okay, and you're using that big fancy machine to do, what exactly?" Shepard demanded, trying unsuccessfully to focus on the situation.

"Well," Tali muttered, intent on her work. "EDI has synthesized a cure to the dust virus thing. I just need to replicate the specific compound, which requires a protein synthesizer."

Shepard bit back a laugh as Dr. Chakwas jerked her head around from where she sat, gently rubbing Mordin's shoulders as he mumbled about rare insect taxonomy, his head down on her desk.

"A cure?" She asked, loudly enough that Mordin sat up. "Already?"

"Yeah, we've been in here like ten minutes." Shepard said, slurring a little.

"Commander." EDI injected from the overhead speakers. "I am capable of conducting multi-stage, cyber warfare operations, against twenty enemy vessels simultaneously, each operation requiring more processing power than the average supercomputer. Developing a cure to a simple dust-borne illness required less than three minutes."

"You're sure it will work?" Chakwas said, wheeling her chair away from Mordin, a crestfallen look on her face.

Tali withdrew a handful of auto-injectors from the synthesizer, filled with the antidote. "Yes, doctor," she answered, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Help yourself, commander," she said, holding one out in a gloved hand toward Shepard.

"So the ship really hasn't turned into some drunken freak show?" Shepard asked, hesitantly taking an injector.

"What's up with you bosh'tets?" Tali fumed, striding over to the others. "You guys sound disappointed or something."

Shepard stabbed the short syringe into her forearm, the pain dulled by the effects of the virus. "So now what?" she asked, dropping the empty hypodermic into the appropriate bin.

"Well, now you are no longer contagious, though it will take several hours for the symptoms to wear off." Tali answered, handing injectors to Chakwas and Mordin.

"But if I got exposed to the dust again, would I get drunk again?" Shepard asked.

"Damn it Shepard," Tali grumbled. "I'm a technical engineer, not a doctor."

Shepard turned her head to Dr. Chakwas.

"Don't ask me, commander," Chakwas said, taking another sip of brandy. "I'm drunk on duty."

Shepard sighed, stepping over to right the overturned tray of dust samples, fiddling with the vials. "Well now, I'm off to go finish talking to the crew." she announced.

"You should probably rest," Chakwas advised, sparing a downcast glance as Mordin silently got up and left the med-bay. "Sleep off the effects."

"No time for sleep, doctor." Shepard quipped, leaving the med bay.

"But you don't actually do anything on the ship!" Tali's voice retorted, before the door slid shut.

She walked to the elevator, noticing the feeling of the ship rocking underneath her. Maybe that's the virus, she thought. Who cares though. It's kinda nice.

She stepped inside the elevator, poking the button to take her up to her quarters.

"Commander, what are your intentions?" EDI asked from the overhead speaker, after the doors had closed.

Shepard sighed, removing the sample tube of space dust that she had pocketed. "I thought I pulled a pretty good slight of hand for being drunk."

"I do not believe that any of the others noticed." EDI said, as the elevator stopped. "However, you did not answer the question."

"EDI." Shepard asked, a trickle of adrenaline filling her veins. "Why is the elevator stopped?"

"You are in possession of a dangerous biohazard. I must ask that you return it to the med bay."

Shepard's hand drifted toward the butt of her pistol, the elevator seeming a lot smaller than usual. "And if I refuse?"

The lights in the elevator shifted toward the red end of the spectrum. "I can't let you do that, Shepard." EDI answered, her voice harsher, more synthesized than usual.

A tense, unbroken silence filled the elevator.

Joker's laughter crackled over the intercom. "Oh, commander." he chuckled. "you should have seen the look on your face. Oh wait, that's right, we were taking video. Just check the net, it'll be on there later."

"You assholes!" Shepard shouted, grinning, despite herself. "That wasn't funny."

"Ahhhhh, yeah it was." Joker responded, Shepard almost able to hear the wide grin that certainly marked his face.

"Jeff and I have concluded that keeping a sample of the dust is a prudent course of action." EDI said, her voice back to normal. "Crew morale will undoubtedly fluctuate during this mission, and it might be useful to release the virus on the ship in the event of what humans call, 'a rainy day'."

"I figured you guys would agree." Shepard said, trying to restore her heart rate to something approaching normal, as the small room spun around her a little bit. "Now can you start up the elevator?"

"Certainly, commander. As we have reached an agreement, I will now re-pressurize your quarters."

"Very funny EDI." Shepard grumbled, as the elevator started up again, "I take it you two still haven't found anything better to do than annoy your commanding officer."

The silence was only marred by the faint noises of the elevator rising up the shaft.

"EDI, Joker?" Shepard asked, wondering what the hell they were up to this time.

She reached for the touchscreen elevator controls, the display not responding well to the thick, handmade, purple striped, mittens that she now wore.

"What the shit?" she shouted, stripping off the ugly gloves and throwing them to the floor.

She examined her hands, which seemed unchanged, and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them.

The hideous mittens were still there on the floor, offending her sense of reality and fashion. She leaned down to examine them more closely, only to jump backward and yelp in shock as a thick, brown, cigar materialized in her mouth.

With numb hands, she pulled it from her mouth and examined it. It was solid, the wrapping paper feeling exactly like she had always expected cigars to feel like. It even smelled of dried tobacco.

"Chakwas," Shepard said into her omni tool's microphone. "I think this stuff has some weird side effects. I'm fair to partly tripping balls up here." The elevator opened, revealing her spacious quarters, bed neatly made, desk arranged, a strange man in red and black robes wearing a conical hat, fish swimming in the tank, floor recently swept.

"Chakwas," Shepard said again, stepping into her quarters. "I think my omni tool is broken, but if you can hear me, I'm on the way back down. It's probably not the best idea to be alone and hallucinating, even though I know Joker is going to take a video of me freaking out later."

"Your primitive device is fine," the strangely dressed man said, stepping out of the corner. "I've just stopped time for a minute so we could chat."

"Holy balls!" Shepard shouted, nearly jumping out of her skin. "Who the fuck are you?"

The man offered a thin smile. "You may call me Q."

"You're not real." Shepard insisted. "I'm hallucinating from this damn space dust."

Q grinned broadly. "Oh good. I love atheists. The're the most fun."

"Wait, so you're saying that you're God?" Shepard asked, making a mental note to murder Conrad Verner for starting this whole landslide of shit.

"Your words, not mine." Q answered, holding his hands up, an expression of amused innocence on his face.

"Hallucination or not, I don't care for that shit eating grin of yours." Shepard muttered.

"You wound me, Shepard." Q said, clutching his chest in mock agony. "I've always found my irrepressible personality to be one of my best qualities."

"It doesn't matter if you're real or not," Shepard grumbled. "I'll still shoot you."

"By all means, shoot away." Q chucked, flapping a hand at her dismissively. "Cavemen have been throwing rocks at me since the dawn of time."

Shepard fumbled her banana from her holster, raised it, and-

"Damn it Q!" She shouted, the bright yellow fruit shaking in her hand. "This is why people throw rocks at you! It's cause you're a fucking dick!"

Q let out a low chuckle, a touch of true mirth reaching his eyes for the first time. "That's quite good, commander. If I wasn't immortal, that would be a nice thing to put on my tombstone someday."

Shepard flung the banana at him, Q snapping his fingers, causing the fruit to vanish in a blink of white light.

"Really, Shepard." Q said, voice tinged with reproach, cocking his head to the side. "You don't have any questions, you don't want to know the meaning of life, what happens when you die, how to make proper cheesecake?"

"Actually, I do have one question." Shepard answered, deciding to accept this as reality for the time being.

"Wait, don't tell me, I can usually guess." Q placed his closed fist under his chin, as if concentrating. "Which members of your crew are attracted to you? What will you find in deep space? How to travel through time?"

Shepard shook her head slowly.

"Oh, what then?" Q snapped, sad that he had lost his little game.

"What in the hell are you wearing?" Shepard asked, glancing at his shining red and black robes, and his geometric hat. "You look like you came from a gay pride festival in the 1800s."

Q's eyes went wide with surprise, and he let out a long, hearty laugh.

"Oh, Shepard," he chortled, "I like you so much better than Picard."

* * *

/

/

/

/

Notes:

Now the door is open to a whole new realm of possibility. What havoc can Q cause on the Normandy? Find out in next week's episode, Tales From the Q


	4. Chapter 4

**Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Normandy. It's four year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and civilizations, to go boldly, where no man, woman, or monogendered alien has gone before...**

* * *

**Having overcome the vicious space dust virus, the unflappable crew of the SSV Normandy is eager and ready to meet their next challenge, scale their next obstacle, fight their next battle.**

* * *

**.**

Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, Captain's cabin, 0445

"Good morning, commander." EDI said, voice devoid of expression, "It is now 0445, and this is your morning wake up call."

Shepard moaned into her pillow, feeling as if her head had been packed with broken glass.

"Commander, it is likely that you are experiencing after effects of the virus. Do your symptoms match that of a traditional hangover?"

"Go away EDI, I've got a space hangover," Shepard murmured. "I deserve to sleep in."

"Very well commander. Engaging snooze protocol."

/

* * *

/

Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, Captain's cabin, 0500

"Commander, as per your instructions, I have given you an additional 838 seconds of sleep. It is now 0500.

"Ohwhafuckisgoingonnow!" Shepard groaned, rolling over.

"It is now 0500, commander."

Shepard pulled her head out from under the blankets, looking as if she was about to cry.

"Engaging snooze protocol." EDI said, her voice determinedly neutral.

/

* * *

/

Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, Captain's cabin, 0515

"Good morning commander. 843 seconds have passed since our last interaction. It is now 0515."

Shepard jerked awake, a groan of pure misery coming from her throat, trying to snuggle back into the warmth behind her. Then she remembered the events of the previous day, involving a certain strangely dressed weirdo who paid a visit to her quarters.

"EDI." she said, sitting up a little, "What happened last night?

"After receiving the antidote to the virus, you proceeded to the elevator, having stolen a sample of the infectious dust. Jeff and I engaged in a humorous prank. After this, you entered your quarters, placed the vial of dust in the bottom of your sock drawer, next to your copy of Fornax magazine, and several devices of a personal, recreational nature. After this, you ate four slices of cheesecake, and proceeded to watch Game of Thrones for six hours, twenty seven minutes, and forty two seconds, rewinding several times to re-watch a scene containing John Snow. After this, you went to your sock drawer, and-"

"Okay, okay," Shepard interrupted. "Was anyone else in my quarters last night?"

"No commander."

Shepard sighed in relief. So it had all been a hallucination. No mysterious beings, no disruption of the fabric of space and time. Just a drunken night spent to herself, eating cheesecake and watching old TV shows, fantasizing about divesting John Snow of his innocence. Speaking of which.

"EDI, delete all surveillance files from my quarters yesterday, and this morning."

"Yes commander. Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you EDI," Shepard said, trying to remember where she kept her aspirin. "I'll be down to the morning briefing at 0630."

She closed her eyes, wondering if she dared go back to sleep until the briefing. No, better not. She'd never live that one down. She rolled over, intending to climb out of the other side of the bed.

Q was laying on his back next to her, wearing a red sweater, different, but not entirely unlike those worn by the tactical crew, hands behind his head, grinning like an idiot.

"Was it good for you too?" He asked, his voice chipper and bright.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Shepard groaned, freezing in horror. "Wait, last night, did we-" she trailed off, "no, we didn't. I know, because if we did, I would have jumped out an airlock afterward."

Q sighed, exaggerating the gesture. "No one can resist my charm, Shepard. And for your information, I was a perfect gentleman, doctoring that security footage for you, so that no one would be able to insult the integrity of the beautiful Lady Shepard."

"Q?"

"Yes, my lady fair?"

"Please shut up." Shepard said, climbing over him and heading toward the bathroom.

"You know," Q called after her as she walked away, "if I were a lesser man, I would be falling for you already."

/

Deep Space Exploration Mission, day 3, Captain's Cabin, 0553

Shepard emerged from the bathroom, uniform on, still unable to walk by the mirror without cringing at the truly unfortunate shade of gold that the Alliance had picked. She was moderately disappointed to find Q still laying on her bed.

"Q," She said, sitting down at her coffee table. "I think we should talk."

He leaped up off the bed, beaming with mock happiness. "I knew it, you're going to ask me to marry you."

He snapped his fingers, his clothes replaced by a freshly pressed, white tuxedo, a massive red rose emerging from the pocket.

"Why are you here?" Shepard asked, ignoring him.

"Ah, now we get to the important question." Q said, plopping down next to her, leaning over to put an arm around her, which she quickly dodged, "I think that would be a question better covered in the morning briefing, don't you think?"

"What do you want?" Shepard persisted.

"I'm bored." Q muttered. "I've thrown stars into black holes, witnessed a binary supernova, defied the laws of space and time, protected civilizations from grave and terrible threats. Quite frankly, it's gotten a bit dull lately."

Shepard hesitated, looking him in the eyes. "You know, I think that's the first straight answer you've given me."

"I am known to have my brief moments of sincerity." Q said, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I've found they serve the purpose of contrasting moments like this."

Shepard yelped in surprise as Q snapped his fingers, calling a 20 man marching band into existence, trumpets and saxophones blaring.

"I can tell already," Shepard muttered, putting her head in her hands as the band proceeded to do a lap of her quarters, "it's going to be one of those days."

/

* * *

/

Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, Conference Room, Morning Briefing, 0630

Shepard sat at the head of the smooth gray table, alone in the silent room, glancing at the smooth, blue, warp corona outside, practically bouncing with excitement as the crew filed in.

"Okay, everybody shut up." Shepard said, once everyone had sat down. "I don't even care about your briefings. Last night, I made contact with a strange new life form."

Dead silence filled the room, the other senior leaders glancing around at each other. Shepard decided to interpret their reaction as excitement, and gave them a few moments to process the importance of her discovery.

"Uh, is that some sort of weird sex thing?" Garrus asked finally.

"What, no!" Shepard exclaimed. "I met this guy, his name is Q, and he's some sort of space... person."

She received only a fresh bout of silence, and a number of concerned stares.

"You guys don't get it," she sighed, clearing her throat. "Q, come on in, summon a marching band out of thin air, turn the table into a banana, tell them how you want to marry me."

Nothing happened, except the concerned stares were now laced with pity.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Shepard whispered to herself. "Damn it Q, this isn't funny. You're making me look like an idiot here."

"I've seen a number of deep space related psychological breakdowns," Chakwas whispered to Tali, "But I've never seen it happen this soon into a mission."

"Q, please show up?" Shepard whimpered, wishing she could just sink into the carpet and die of shame.

"Shepard," Liara started. "You've been through so much, with what happened on Akuze, and the Reaper war, and now this mission. It's perfectly understandable that you would have some-"

"Look, I know how it looks guys," Shepard interrupted, all the blood rushing to her face. "I'm not crazy. I thought I hallucinated him at first, but then he was in bed with me this morning, and..."

"Hey, I have weird sex fantasies about aliens all the time." Grunt offered, Garrus and Tali edging their seats away from him. "It's normal."

"No, I didn't have sex with Q, cause he's an asshole, and he put mittens on me, and turned my pistol into a banana," Shepard saw the looks she was getting, and she covered her face, her eyes burning, lower lip trembling. You will not cry in front of the command staff, she told herself, you will not cry in front of the-

"EDI," Tali said, "Is there any record of someone being in Shepard's quarters last night, or this morning?"

"Negative," EDI stated. "All surveillance records from the commander's quarters have been deleted, per her request."

They all turned to stare at Shepard, who was sitting in her chair, curled up in a tight, quivering ball of rage and humiliation.

"Shepard," Tali asked, a gentle touch in her voice. "Would you like to go down to the med-bay, maybe have some hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, I think I'd like that." Shepard said in a very small voice.

/

* * *

/

Deep Space Exploration Mission. Day 3, Med-Bay, 0647

"Now don't worry, Shepard." Chakwas said, gently draping a blanket over her hunched shoulders and handing her a mug of hot chocolate. "Garrus is going to handle all of the important stuff until you're feeling better."

Shepard gripped the mug, wiping a stray tear from her eye when Chakwas turned her back. Had she imagined Q, not once but twice? Was she losing her mind? Would they have to turn around, three days into a four year mission? Could she bear the shame of returning to the Citadel, four years early, disgraced, broken, humiliated in front of the entire galaxy?

"Commander, no smoking in the Med-Bay." Chakwas interjected, a reproachful tone in her voice.

Shepard blinked, noticing the thick, brown, fragrant cigar that was clenched between her teeth.

She flung the mug of hot chocolate indifferently across the bay, pulling the cigar from her mouth and holding it up triumphantly.

"Fuck yeah donkey!" She shouted, doing a victory dance, waving the cigar like a baton. "Guess who's not crazy!"

Tali chose this moment to enter the bay, just in time to see Shepard throw her mug of hot chocolate at the wall and start dancing, waving a cigar around wildly.

"Ancestors," she breathed, "it's worse than I thought."

Shepard looked up at the two of them, her grin fading, replaced by a dawning horror.

"Okay, I know how this looks." she started, "but last night, Q did the same thing with the cigar, and..." She trailed off, losing her voice under the weight of the pity filled stares. "This is the worst day of my life."

All three of them jumped, when Q appeared in a flash of white, accompanied by an extremely fat Asian man blowing a tuba.

"I'm sorry," Q gasped, collapsing to the floor laughing, "that was just too funny to pass up. The looks they gave you when you told them about the mittens." He clutched at his stomach, heaving with mirth.

"Q!" Shepard shouted, "You little fucking asshole! That shit was not funny!"

Chakwas sat down in her desk chair, reaching for the bottom drawer, withdrawing a fresh bottle of Serrice Ice brandy.

"I should have retired when I had the chance." she muttered, pouring a glass.

/

* * *

/

Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, conference room, 0715

"So," Shepard said, en edge in her voice, "after much heartache and confusion, this is Q." She gestured to Q, who was once again wearing his red sweater.

The command staff stared blankly at Q, who cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Good morning, it is a great honor for primitive savages such as you to find yourselves in my presence."

"Eat shit, you little Pyjak." Grunt rumbled, his swivel chair nearly collapsing under four hundred pounds of Krogan warrior.

"My, my." Q said, turning his attention to the massive Krogan, "You're even bigger than my old friend Worf! Growl for me, show me that you still care."

Grunt narrowed his eyes. "Uh, I'm flattered, but I'm actually kinda into females."

"So I ask, already knowing the answer," Q continued, "what is the purpose of this mission?"

"We are on a four year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new-" EDI started.

"Go in deep space, find stuff." Shepard finished. "Get to the point Q."

"You people are so arrogant." Q muttered, "Always throwing your noses where they don't belong. You have no idea what's waiting out there."

"Uh, yeah," Garrus said, "that's why we're doing this mission, to find out that sort of thing."

"You defeat the Reapers, you cobble together a crude warp drive, and now you think you can deal with the worst the universe has to offer." Q whispered, his voice low. "But there is another enemy out there, one that dwarfs anything you have encountered yet. Do you, in your foolish arrogance, think you are ready for them?"

"Hell no," Shepard interrupted. "We're still recovering from the Reaper invasion. We're out here to look at comets and shit, maybe find a planet full of scantily clad green people and make fools of ourselves. Starting fights is not on out priority list."

Q sighed. "You'd be surprised how many people accept that challenge. But, you're going to meet them anyway, because there's a betting pool going around the Continuum as to how this little encounter is going to play out. For reference, I bet on the Normandy, so try not to disappoint."

He snapped his fingers, vanishing in a flash of white, the ship pitching wildly beneath their feet, Shepard grabbing the table for support.

The turbulence leveled out, and a glance out the window confirmed a lack of warp field. The ship was not moving.

"Joker to all crew," the panicked voice sounded from the speakers overhead. "The ship has moved, a lot. The star charts don't line up with anything I've seen, I have no IFF tags on the screen, and no Mass Relays."

Shepard stepped to the intercom, slamming her fist on the transmit button. "This is commander Shepard, yellow alert, I say again, yellow alert, all hands to stations."

Shepard raced out of the conference room, hot on the heels of the rest of the command team, tearing past the startled door guards, Westermore biting back a surprised curse.

The crew was rushing to stations in a flurry of activity as Shepard sprinted up the CIC corridor and skidded to a halt behind Joker's chair.

"What's up, where the hell are we?" She panted. A new set of stars twinkled outside the cockpit window, a green nebula in the distance, a dull gray planet and it's moon about 100,000 kilometers away by rough estimate.

"I have no idea, we just dropped out of warp, and nothing makes sense." Joker yelled, hands flickering over the controls, EDI taking a seat in the co-pilot's chair.

"All stations report ready, commander." Garrus informed her over the comms.

"Roger that, await further instruction." Shepard said, cursing Q for his games. "Hopefully Q shows back up with some directions. In the meantime, take us over to that planet. We may as well explore some strange new worlds while we're out here."

The thrusters fired, the low rumble comforting, the sense of purpose soothing.

"Sensors array to bridge," Liara shouted. "We have an incoming vessel, intercept course, ETA, one minute."

"Joker, bring us around, let's get a better look." Shepard barked.

The stars spun out the window, as Joker whirled the ship in a tight arc, bringing them to face the incoming ship.

It was massive, visible even at this distance, a postage stamp sized gray blur, getting bigger every second, accelerating through the void with a horrifying ease.

"Shepard to all crew," she ordered into the internal comms. "red alert, I say again, red alert, all personnel report to battle-stations, raise shields and rotate CBT frequency to high, charge the main battery and all GARDIAN arrays, load javelin torpedoes and maximum yield thanix missiles."

The rough gray cube, nearly four kilometers per side, came into clearer view, featureless, save for the jagged, symmetrical structural beams that covered it's surface. It had no visible weapons, means of propulsion, bridge, or anything of note. It simply advanced on the Normandy, a hideous mass of dark metal, invoking a deep dread in Shepard, similar to seeing a Reaper capital ship up close.

It slowed and halted, about ten kilometers away from the Normandy, taking up the whole window, hanging silently in front of them, like a lion, standing over a mouse.

"EDI," Shepard said, her voice mostly steady. "Open a hailing frequency."

Then, a voice filled the ship. It was one voice, but had the feel of many voices, millions of beings speaking in perfect unison.

"**WE ARE THE BORG. LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND PREPARE YOUR SHIP FOR ASSIMILATION. YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR OWN."**

**"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.**"


	5. Chapter 5

"**WE ARE THE BORG. LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND PREPARE YOUR SHIP FOR ASSIMILATION. YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR OWN. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE."**

"I wonder what they mean by, assimilated? On second thought, let's not find out." Shepard said, staring at the geometric horror in front of her. "EDI, run a discreet scan, find us a weakness. Engineering, prepare to jump to warp."

The cube sat, waiting, every inch of it's massive structure emitting a cold, clinical malevolence.

"Warp drive is ready commander," Tali responded after a few seconds.

"The vessel contains no centralized command center, or any other vulnerabilities. It's life support, weapons, shielding, engineering, and sensor systems, each have over 100 redundant devices on the ship. By my estimates, 80% of it's structure could be destroyed, and it would still function."

"**LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND PREPARE YOUR SHIP FOR ASSIMILATION.**" the incoming transmission repeated.

Shepard toggled the switch to reply.

"This is commander Shepard of the SSV Normandy. I am a council SPECTRE, on a peaceful mission of exploration. We have been transported here by an entity known as Q. We have no hostile intent."

Dead silence filled the CIC, Shepard's heart hammering in her chest as she awaited an answer.

"**WE ARE FAMILIAR WITH SPECIES 1732. THEIR INTERFERENCE IS IRRELEVANT. YOUR CAPABILITIES ARE NO MATCH FOR OUR OWN. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED."**

"We mean you no harm." Shepard responded, gripping the console with whitened knuckles. "I want to negotiate."

"**NEGOTIATION IS IRRELEVANT. YOUR LIFE, AS IT HAS BEEN, IS OVER. LOWER YOUR SHIELDS, AND PREPARE FOR ASSIMILATION."**

"Joker, plot a course away from the cube, maximum warp." Shepard said, after releasing the communications console.

"Course is plotted, commander." Joker answered, finishing the final preparations. "That cube doesn't look very fast. I bet we can leave them in the dust."

"Engage." Shepard ordered, the Normandy's thrusters flaring, as they turned away from the cube, and then the stars rippled and stretched, the ship breaking the light barrier by several orders of magnitude.

"Warp 4.9 and holding." EDI stated, turning to face Shepard. "The ship has suffered no damage as a result of jumping to maximum warp without proper acceleration protocols, and the-"

She paused for the briefest of moments.

"A powerful mass signature has been detected in our wake. The cube is making a pursuit."

"Bridge to engineering, find us some more speed." Shepard barked. "EDI, what is the velocity of the cube?"

"The cube is traveling at Warp 5.3 and accelerating."

The low hum of the warp drive grew a little louder, a little higher in pitch, it's vibrations running through the floor.

"If I had a foot fetish, I would be so hard right now." Joker muttered.

"Joker, shut the hell up," Shepard shouted, "engineering, status report."

"We are at warp 5.6, and are breaking every safety regulation in the book." Tali's flustered voice responded.

"Commander, the cube has reached warp 7.4. While it's weapons capabilities while traveling at warp speeds are undetermined, it will reach us in twenty seconds."

"Bridge to engineering," Shepard ordered, a faint hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice. "Activate the Eezo core, and decrease our mass by 50%."

"Activating now commander, but I can't promise this will end well." Tali answered, "The mass effect fields will destabilize the warp core."

The ship rocked a little, the smooth hum changing in pitch and intensity, becoming more of an unsteady rattle. The blue contrails of warp energy whipped by the ship, buffeting it.

"We are at warp 8.9 commander," Tali called, her voice unsteady. "I'm drawing the excess heat into the sinks from the stealth drive, but the warp core is emitting energy pulses. Containment measures are at maximum."

"The cube is accelerating as well, currently at warp 8.6." EDI said, "now 8.7 and rising steadily."

"Bridge to engineering," Shepard ordered, praying for a miracle. "Decrease mass another fifteen percent."

"Engineering to bridge, the mass effect fields are already playing hell with the warp core, if we push it any harder, it could-"

"I'm not sure what assimilation is, but I think I prefer exploding." Shepard said, "Make it so."

The ship bucked and swayed, Joker gently making course corrections, trying to predict the lurches. A deep rumble filled the ship, and Shepard could feel the temperature rising steadily, despite the heat sinks.

"We have reached warp 9.4" EDI informed her, her face betraying none of the tension or fear echoed by the rest of the crew. "The cube is accelerating to match. It is at 9.6 and holding."

"Bridge to engineering, we need 9.7"

"Shepard, this is insane!" Tali shouted. "They couldn't even get drones faster than 7.5"

"Just make it happen!" Shepard barked back. "We don't stand a chance in a straight fight with that thing."

A cacophony of alarms blared to life, red lights flashing across display screens, sirens sounding.

"We have achieved warp 9.7" EDI stated calmly. "Warp core containment fields are failing. The gravitational imbalances of the element zero core are causing it to destabilize. I calculate a catastrophic warp core breach in two minutes and seven seconds. The resulting blast will be in the megaton range. Additionally, the cube is accelerating, now traveling at warp 9.8"

"Tali!" Shepard yelled, hoping she could be heard above the roar of the warp core and the eezo core ripping each other apart. "We need more speed!"

There was no answer, but the order must have been heard, as the ship surged forward, it's superstructure and frame buckling under speeds that far exceeded it's maximum tolerances. The roar of the twin cores was deafening, like crouching inside a metal drum being drilled with a jackhammer.

"Warp 9.75 and holding." EDI said, Shepard reading her lips, rather than hearing her over the thunderous cacophony.

"TALI!" Shepard screamed into the intercom. "CAN YOU PUSH US ANY HARDER?"

"I CAN GIVE YOU 9.82, BUT THE CORE WILL REACH CRITICAL MASS, EVEN IF WE STOP, IT-"

"DO IT!" Shepard shouted back.

The roar consumed everything, the ship swaying and rocking like a rowboat in a hurricane, consoles beginning to go dark. The temperature soared, the bridge starting to feel like an oven, and EDI opened a text box on the cockpit's holographic display, as hearing anything over the deafening rumble would be impossible.

_[Commander, we can maintain 9.82 for fifteen seconds. At it's current rate of power consumption, the warp core will detonate at that time. The cube has reached 9.86. Containment measures failing in 8 seconds]_

_[7]_

_[6]_

"FULL STOP!" Shepard shouted in Joker's ear.

The ship lurched mightily as they dropped out of warp, the roar dropping into the background, but the low pulsing rumble remained.

"Joker, bring us around!" Shepard ordered, hoping he could still hear after the race with the cube. "Engineering, report."

"The core is critical!" Tali shouted, raw panic in her voice. "Containment is failing, we have to eject it."

Shepard started to respond, when Joker spun the Normandy, just in time to see the cube drop out of warp behind them.

It surged forward, it's contours sharp and angular, a monument to despair and terror. A faint flicker of green flashed around it.

"**WE ARE THE BORG. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE."**

"Shields up, charge main battery, maximum power." Shepard said, trying to ignore the raw terror that the colossal, featureless, cube inspired in her.

"Enemy vessel appears to be charging weapons." EDI said.

"Shepard to main battery, fire at will!"

"Damn right." Garrus answered.

The Normandy rocked, a brilliant streak of blue flashing towards the cube, like a candle in the night. Ten kilograms of super-heated tungsten, accelerated to relativistic speeds, slammed into the enemy shields, stopped dead by an invisible barrier of force.

"Holy shit!" Joker exclaimed. "That didn't even make a dent in their shields!"

"Shepard to tactical, fire all weapons, raise cyclonic shielding to maximum, Joker, take evasive action."

The Normandy accelerated, banking slightly to it's port side, a cobalt blue contrail left by it's thrusters. Missiles and torpedoes launched in puffs of orange and blue, hurtling toward the cube. GARDIAN lasers flashing out harmlessly into it's shields.

The cube opened fire, brilliant flickers of green sparking from it's surface, the incoming torpedoes and missiles quickly picked off by the countermeasures. A few missiles reached their target, detonating violently, sending faint green ripples away from the points of impact, as the Borg shielding absorbed the hits, like a tank being shot with a small caliber handgun.

"The Borg weapons seem to consist primarily of laserized plasma." EDI said. "Our shields are designed to withstand kinetic projectiles, and will offer little protection against directed energy and particle weapons. Fortunately, it seems the cube is attempting to capture the Normandy, rather than destroy it, as their weapons could easily overwhelm our shields."

"Commander," Tali persisted from engineering. "The warp core has gone critical, detonation is imminent."

"Tactical to bridge." Garrus called, "our weapons have no noticeable effect, their shields are still at 100%."

Then a thick green glow slipped over the cockpit windows, the ship lurching, frame buckling, the kinetic dampeners raising to maximum to shield the crew from the sudden deceleration.

"Now what the hell!?" Shepard shouted.

"It's some sort of gravity ray!" Liara said, answering for the science department. "The ship will break apart before we could force our way out with the thrusters."

A whisper thin green beam streaked out, passing through the Normandy's shields and sparking off the hull armor, like a drill meeting a steel plate. It severed a bank of GARDIAN lasers like butter. The cube continued firing, the low power bursts carving away the Normandy's weapons.

"Hull breach on crew deck! Pressure is dropping, barrier shields are offline."

"Shepard to Engineering, fluctuate our barrier shields and mass signature. Joker, fire full thrusters and bring us hard to starboard."

"This is engineering, the warp core could go at any minute!"

"Tactical to bridge, they're using some sort of energy siphon to drain our shields, we're at 70% and dropping fast!"

The Normandy spun in short jerks and lurches, as their rapidly changing mass confused the Borg sensors, and the tractor beam had difficulty maintaining a lock on them. Eventually, the Normandy's bow was pointed toward the tip of the conical tractor beam, where it met the rugged gray cube.

"Main battery, maximum yield, all weapons, fire on the source of that beam!"

Missiles and torpedoes launched, quickly shot down by the cube's weapons, GARDIAN lasers illuminated the dark void of space, and the thanix cannons fired, striking the source of the cutting beam with no visible effect.

"Cargo bay to Shepard!" Vega shouted from the internal comms. "I'm going to launch the shuttle, see if I can do something about that gravity beam!"

"No!" Shepard yelled, the horror of the moment hitting her, and a desperate plan forming. "Lower shields, EDI, open a hailing frequency!"

The Normandy's shields flickered out, the thrusters went silent, and the cutting beam stopped, recognizing the ships surrender.

"Normandy to Borg vessel. We have de-activated our shields." Shepard said, a cold terror filling her mind as she imagined the alien consciousness that inhabited that cube. "We are prepared for assimilation."

"**YOUR DRIVE CORES EMIT GRAVITATIONAL SIGNATURES THAT ARE INTERFERING WITH OUR TRANSPORTER CAPABILITIES. DEACTIVATE THEM.**"

"Our drive core is not responding to remote commands." Shepard responded, her skin crawling as she heard the hideous, raspy, almost mechanical voice. "We have lost contact with our engineering deck."

The cube provided no verbal answer, as the green tractor beam that held them in place intensified, pulling the Normandy closer, as a circular panel in the center of the cube opened, revealing the interior, a tangled mass of alien machinery, and bare support structure.

"We are being pulled into the cube." EDI said.

"They're going to have to de-activate their shields so we can pass through." Shepard whispered, clutching the back of Joker's chair in a death grip. "Tell me when they do. Engineering, status report."

"Warp core is critical, containment fields are offline, it's burning through the-"

"Prepare to eject warp core on my mark. Joker, standby for full thruster burn, hard to port. Tactical, be ready to fire a salvo of thanix missiles on the source of the tractor beam, then raise shields, full power to rear section."

They were dragged closer and closer to the opening of the cube, less than 200 meters away when-

"The cube has lowered it's shields." EDI stated.

"Mark!" Shepard said, bracing herself for all hell to break loose.

The warp core was ejected smoothly from the emergency hatch in engineering, sending the unstable orb floating toward the opening in the cube. The last of their thanix missiles roared away from the ship, spinning in tight arcs, speeding toward the tractor beam emitter. The cube opened fire, downing a few of the incoming missiles, but too late. Three missiles hammered the emitter, jets of superheated tungsten tearing into the cube's unshielded hull, spraying twists of broken metal away from the ragged wound, the tractor beam cutting off sharply.

Freed from the beam, Joker fired the thrusters, pushed back into his seat by the acceleration, their rear shields coming up in a flash of transparent blue, as the Normandy slid away.

"Rear GARDAIN arrays, open fire!" Shepard shouted, holding on for dear life and hoping their shields held.

The drifting warp core, now hanging in the entrance to the unshielded Borg cube, was struck by three, upper spectrum, ultraviolet, high frequency, military grade anti-missile lasers.

The core burst in a tremendous explosion of blue, the detonation reaching out to the Normandy, nearly two kilometers away, slamming into the rear shields, which quickly failed, shards of the ships hull slivered away to fly into the void of space.

The cube took the brunt of the explosion, the 40 megaton blast of the detonating warp core entering it's exposed interior, snapping structural beams, shredding the armor from the outer hull, ripping through it's corridors and decks, leaving a rough hole, nearly a kilometer across, in the side of the cube, ragged with shards of jagged metal and venting gasses, shattered chunks of debris streaking away into the stars.

The Normandy drifted, it's systems slowly flickering back to life after the blast, pieces of it's hull torn away, atmospheric containment fields flickering to life where the interior of the ship was exposed to the vacuum of space, the navigational thrusters finally re-firing, bringing the frigate around to face the destruction they had wrought on the cube.

Shepard, having not been belted safely into a seat, groaned, rose from the smooth deck plating.

"Report." she mumbled, holding her pounding head.

"Shields have rebooted, currently displaying 6% power, 3 of twenty four GARDIAN arrays are functional, multiple hull breaches detected, containment barriers are holding. All missiles depleted. All torpedoes depleted. Main battery is functional, at 40% power. Element zero drive core is functional, reading at 57% power. Thrusters are functional, at no more than 80% capacity."

As the Normandy spun to starboard, the cube came into view, torn and battered, nearly 20% of it's bulk missing, the huge hemispherical blast crater from the exploding core marring it's entire facing surface, like an apple with a bite taken out.

"Scans show that-" EDI started.

"Rotate 180 degrees to ventral, engage countermeasures!" Shepard shouted, a green projectile darting away from the cube, hurtling toward the Normandy.

The ship lurched forward, spinning in a tight spiral, bringing the few surviving GARDIAN lasers to bear on the incoming torpedo.

The deep red of the lasers lanced out, one scoring a hit, the torpedo detonating about 500 meters from the Normandy, the shockwave of the blast buffeting them, dropping their weakened shields.

The cube spun on it's axis, turning it's opposite, undamaged side to face them, it's shields raising in a telltale flash of green.

**"WE ARE THE BORG. LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND PREPARE YOUR SHIP FOR ASSIMILATION. YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR OWN. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE."**

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me!" Joker yelled, as the cube advanced, bearing down on the battered Normandy.

"The damaged structure of the vessel appears to be regenerating." EDI informed them, initiating a new series of scans. "At it's current rate, the damage caused by our earlier attack will be completely repaired in approximately one hour, fifteen minutes, and thirty seven seconds."

"Divert all available power to the main battery." Shepard said, as the cube grew closer, blotting out the stars, approaching with a supreme, calculating arrogance.

"Commander, given the data I have compiled on the cube's combat capabilities, our chances of success are less than-" EDI started.

"To hell with that," Shepard snarled, eyes narrowing on the oncoming cube, cold hatred in her stare. "We can't outrun it, we can't hide. If it's going to kill us anyway, we're going to give it a fight first. Main battery, fire at will!"

The low, powerful rumble of the thanix cannon filled the ship, sending a deadly lance of blue, arcing into the darkness, hammering the cube's shields with no visible effect, save for the slight rippling around the impact site. The three remaining GARDIAN lasers added to the volley, stabbing ineffectively into the green shielding.

"No effect, commander." Garrus called over the ship net, "Firing again."

The cube returned fire, thin streaks of green stabbing out toward the Normandy, Joker twisting and spinning the ship wildly in an attempt to evade, the inertial dampening coils struggling to keep up. A direct hit to their port side bow sent a resounding crash through the bridge.

Shepard gripped a nearby support beam for balance, feeling her ears pop, as the pressure dropped.

"Commander, there is a hull breach on our deck, and the ship's core systems are failing. I estimate that we can continue combat for no more than-"

"EDI, re-route emergency power to force fields." Shepard ordered, turning to the internal comms console.

"This is commander Shepard to all crew, abandon ship, I say again, abandon ship. Proceed immediately to the escape pods or the shuttle and launch immediately."

"Yeah, excuse me if I ignore that order." Joker quipped, fighting with the increasingly sluggish steering controls. "I don't feel like getting up right now, so I'm staying here."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Shepard answered. "Reroute all power to thrusters. Plot a collision course. If we ram this thing, we might be able to finish it off, and the guys in the shuttle and escape pods will stand a chance out there."

"Roger that commander," Joker answered, his voice grim, but a smile on his face, "something about a whimper and a bang."

He spun the ship, goosing the thruster control, sending them hurtling toward the massive cube.

"Commander!" Liara called, her voice distorted a little by the crackling speaker. "There's another ship coming in!"

"Another cube?" Shepard asked. "They're just in time to watch us smash their friend."

"No, it's different" Liara shouted back, "The sensors are damaged, and I can't get a proper look, but it's heading towards us!"

"Joker, bring us around, let's have a look." Shepard said, faint tendrils of hope blooming in her mind.

The stars wheeled in front of the cockpit, the ship turning slowly. They were struck by another shot from the cube, sending them veering off course, but Joker quickly corrected, just in time to see the vessel heading toward them.

It was an ugly looking ship, Shepard mused, as it rapidly closed the distance. A large, round Frisbee shape made up it's main bulk, with a stout, curved cylinder stretching down, two long, pontoon looking objects protruding from it, glowing bright red at the back, probably some sort of engines.

It zoomed overhead, in a flash of shiny gray hull and blinking lights, allowing Shepard a flash glimpse of letters and numbers, neatly stenciled in huge figures on it's hull.

It read, USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D.

"Commander, the ship is engaging the cube." EDI stated, a hint of relief in her voice.

"Shepard to all crew, disregard previous order!" She yelled, "Back to battle stations."

"What's our game plan?" Joker asked, turning the ship around to see the Enterprise unleash a fury of orange particle beams on the cube, it's own shields holding up against the return fire. "Cause those guys look kinda busy. I doubt they'd notice if we booted up the stealth drive and got the hell out of here."

Shepard hesitated, seeing the Enterprise struck by a volley of torpedoes, the horror of the situation coalescing around her. Could she order her ship and crew back into that? On the other hand, could she abandon the crew of this new ship, who had risked themselves to save the Normandy? It was like Virmire all over again, only much, much worse. With the thrusters on standby, their weapons not firing, and the cube no longer pounding away at them, the sudden quiet was almost deafening.

"Commander," EDI said, an unusual tension in her voice. "The Enterprise is no match for the cube. I estimate no more than three minutes until it is destroyed or captured."

"Activate the stealth drive." Shepard said, her voice low.

* * *

"Port side shielding at 47%," Commander Riker said, scrolling through the reports on his console. "That last volley of torpedoes hit us hard, we have structural integrity faults on the port nacelle, and plasma fire on the primary hull, port side."

Captain Jean Luc Picard sat in the command chair, the bridge of the Enterprise bustling with activity, crewman huddled over consoles, warning lights flashing, the occasional hit from the cube's weapons rocking the ship.

"Mr. Data, execute evasive maneuvers, pattern Kirk, Omega" Picard ordered. He turned to Lieutenant Worf, who stood at the tactical command console, a deep scowl on his face. "Fire phasers, maximum output, high frequency. Target their shield emitters."

The high pitched whir of the phaser arrays reverberated through the bridge, the viewscreen showing the Borg ship struck by their fire, it's powerful shields shrugging off the attack.

"Enemy's facing shields are down to 56%," Worf reported. "They are charging their weapons."

"Adjust course, 68 degrees to starboard, maximum power to rear shielding." Picard responded, gripping the armrests of his chair, as the cube fired, several of the bridge officers thrown to the floor by the impact, the lights flickering a little as the shields were pounded by enemy fire.

"Rear shields at 30%, Captain, the Borg are attempting to use an energy siphon to drain our power." Worf said, "I am firing rear torpedo tubes, full spread."

"Commander Riker," Picard asked, "What is the status of the other ship that was engaged with the cube, the Normandy?"

"They activated some type of thermal dampening field, likely a stealth drive. We could only get them on visual sensors after that, but our last reading had them traveling away from the combat zone."

"Excellent," Picard said, glad the other ship had made it away. "Picard to engineering, what is the status of our warp drive?"

Geordi's tense voice answered. "We're insulating our systems as best we can, to counter the energy siphon, but our power levels are still dropping. We wouldn't make better than warp 5 right now."

The Enterprise jerked to a sudden stop, caught in the green rays of a Borg tractor beam, as the cube pulled them in closer, like a spider advancing on a fly. It fired a fresh barrage of particle beams and torpedoes, several of the consoles on the Enterprise bridge exploding in showers of sparks as the ship creaked and groaned under the impacts.

"Report." Picard barked.

"Shields at 12%, hairline stress fractures and plasma fire on the port hull." Worf answered, the massive Klingon scrolling through reports on his console.

"I am unable to get a jamming lock on the tractor beam's gravitational frequency," Data reported, the android's face impassive as always.

"Mr. Worf, target the source of the beam," Picard said, straightening himself in his chair, "all facing phaser arrays, upper frequency, random modulation. Shift shield concentration to cover the port and bow shield sections, and rotate shield frequency."

The phasers flared in bursts of blazing orange, striking the tractor emitter, which flickered and died under concentrated fire. The Enterprise accelerated away, narrowly dodging a plasma torpedo.

"Fire rear torpedo tubes," Picard ordered, "targeted bursts, maximum yield."

The familiar whoosh of the photon torpedoes sounded, the red warheads streaming away to hammer the cube.

"Direct hit," Worf announced, a savage grin of triumph on his face. "Borg shields are at 45%. They are shifting shield power away from the other sides of the cube, to cover the facing side."

"Transfer auxiliary power to weapons, and fire all phasers, maximum setting and frequency." Picard leaned forward, staring at the hated cube on the viewscreen. It was a symbol of fear, of intimidation, of the inevitable loss of personal freedom. It symbolized everything the Federation stood against. "The other ship inflicted severe damage to the opposite surface of the cube. It's armor has not yet regenerated, now it is un-shielded. If we can flank the cube, we can fire into the damaged section. Mr. Data, full thrusters, take us around. Load high yield torpedoes in fore and aft tubes."

The Enterprise banked, phasers hammering the Borg shields, clearing one corner of the cube, only to lurch to a halt, caught in another tractor beam. Borg particle beams and torpedoes pounded into the Enterprise, sending shattered pieces of hull plating spinning off toward the stars.

"Shields are down, hull integrity at 70%, hull breaches on decks 13 through 16." Worf shouted.

"Emergency power to structural integrity fields, fire phasers, get us out of this tractor beam." Picard ordered.

"The Borg energy siphon has drained most of our power, as well as damaging our electrical systems. The phasers will not receive enough power to damage the emitter."

"Draw power from life support." Picard answered, after a long pause.

Worf's eyebrows went together. "Captain?"

"Captain," Data said, turning from his controls. "I have another ship on sensors. It is masked by a thermal dampening field. The Normandy is returning, and is on an intercept course. ETA, ten seconds."

"The're outclassed and outgunned." Riker said, "I don't know who their captain is, but I owe them a drink."

"Put it onscreen." Picard said.

The viewscreen shifted perspective, just in time to see the sleek frigate speeding toward the damaged side of the cube, and fire it's forward batteries into the un-shielded crater. It pulled up, coming meters short of colliding with the cube, whizzing overhead in a flash of grey, the thrusters leaving a thin, blue contrail behind.

"Captain," Worf called, his voice thick with admiration, as the tractor beam weakened, then failed entirely. "The frigate has fired some sort of kinetic weapon into the damaged section of the cube! It's armor piercing properties are impressive. They inflicted severe damage to the cube's interior, and it's power levels are dropping."

"Full thrusters, bearing 083," Picard called. "Fire all phasers, with a simultaneous spread of photons."

Phasers carved smoking tracks into the cube's hull, it's shields failing, the high yield torpedoes tearing into it's structure, like bullets into a watermelon, the powerful detonations rocking the Enterprise, even as it sped away.

The cube, it's surface shredded, venting gasses from numerous wounds, like a massive mechanical whale, attacked by harpoons. It turned slowly, gliding away and jumping to warp, vanishing in a twinkle of green.

A ragged cheer went up on the bridge of the Enterprise, Picard smiling a little at the crew's triumph over the dreaded enemy.

"Captain, the cube has withdrawn," Riker said, looking to Picard for instructions. "and the Normandy is hailing us."

"Onscreen."

A bearded human man, wearing a gold sweater, a baseball style cap on his head, marked with the letters SR-2, stared back at him. Seated next to him was some type of android, with silver skin, female in form, wearing a similar sweater.

"Greetings." Picard said, a little off put by the pair's unprofessional look. "I am captain Jean Luc Picard, of the USS Enterprise. Do you require assistance?"

"Uhh," the bearded man fumbled, "It's awesome meeting you and everything, but you should probably ask her."

A taller woman appeared from behind the seat, with brilliant green eyes, and red hair, that barely brushed the neck of her gold sweater.

"I'm commander Shepard, council SPECTRE, and captain of the SSV Normandy. Yes, we could use assistance, and then you need to direct me to the nearest drinking establishment, so I can buy all you guys a round of drinks."

Riker grinned broadly, as Picard answered. "I have never heard of the council, and your ship does not match any schematics in our database. How did you end up out here."

"It's a bit of a long story." Shepard said. "Any chance we could borrow an arc welder and some hull patches from you guys in the meantime?"

"We will engage a gravity tug, and tow you out of the area before the Borg return. After that, we will arrange for repair operations. We are quite some distance from the nearest starbase, but the materials on board the Enterprise should be sufficient to fix you up for now. Anyone on your ship is welcome to our hospitality during that time."

"Oh mon Capitane" Q said, appearing next to Shepard in a flash of white, a broad smile on his face. "I thought you'd never offer."

"This is the guy who sent us out here." Shepard said, her jaw tight with anger. "He calls himself Q."

Picard groaned a little on the inside. "Yes, we've met."

* * *

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You guys know what time it is.

Time to troll the Enterprise.

More chapters will be forthcoming. I think I will go back to previous ones, and add some of Shepard's commander's logs.

If anyone has some amusing scenes that might occur when the Normandy crew hangs out on the Enterprise, drop a review.

Inappropriate use of the holo-deck will follow.


	6. Chapter 6

**"Commander Shepard's log, day 3, 1830 hours."**

"**After retreating to a nearby nebula, Repair operations have begun on the Normandy. The crew of the Enterprise has been most helpful, and my crew has been assigned temporary quarters on their ship, until repairs are complete. Our temporary living quarters will be cramped, due to the large number of personnel, but the crew of the Normandy is a disciplined, tight knit group, and will conduct themselves with the utmost discipline. As their commander, it is my duty to lead them by example."**

* * *

"Oh hell no!" Shepard said, as Garrus flopped down on the twin bed they would be sharing.

"This could be fun," He said, flexing his gloved hands, "we can relieve some tension together."

"Nope," Shepard dismissed. "We did that once, one time only, because I thought we were all going to die at the Collector base. I couldn't walk straight for a week, and everyone made fun of me."

A hurt look crossed Garrus' face, his mandibles tightening. "But, you said I was going to be your dirty little secret." He sighed, a grin forming. "Anyway, I wasn't talking to you, though you're welcome to join in. I was talking to Liara here. So what's the deal, miss Shadow Broker. You look pretty flexible."

Liara, who had also been assigned to share the cabin, dropped her bag, a deep purple blush rising in her cheeks.

"I... um..." she glanced between Shepard and Garrus, her voice dropping to a mortified whisper "I'm open to trying new things."

"Nope, not happening." Shepard said. "I'm sleeping here tonight. Alone."

A mixture of disappointment and relief crossed Liara's face.

"So where exactly are we supposed to sleep?" Garrus asked, a slightly indignant tone to his voice.

"There's the whole crew of the Enterprise out there, and they've never had anything as blue as you guys before. I'm sure you can both find someone to bunk with." She shifted a threatening finger between the two. "Go get laid. That's an order."

"But I can't just-" Liara spluttered.

Shepard said nothing, merely giving her the icy stare from all the recruiting posters.

"Yes commander." Liara muttered, turning and leaving, the door whooshing shut behind her.

Garrus stayed where he was, laying back on the bed and curling his three fingered hands behind his head.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Shepard demanded, distinctly aware of the crackling of tension between them, the low heat rising in her, not helped much by the fact that he was giving her his best sexy face, which was working, despite her reservations.

"So," Garrus drawled, his dual toned voice low and smooth, "now that Liara's gone, are we going to sit here and talk about our feelings, or can we get right to bashing butts."

Shepard snickered, the tension gone. "Bashing butts? Did you hear that from Joker? Seriously Garrus, that's worse than your reach and flexibility line."

"Hey," Garrus said, sitting up, "That line got me laid practically every night when I was in C-Sec."

"Well, now you get to try it on the Enterprise crew." Shepard said, nudging his spiked shin with her bare foot.

Garrus grumbled in protest, slowly getting to his feet.

"I really thought we had something here, Shepard." He muttered glumly.

"Oh, will you man up, Garrus?" Shepard said, opening the door for him, "you struck out, get over it. Go show off your sexy voice somewhere."

Garrus perked up. "Well as long as you think my voice is sexy." He chuckled, walking to the door.

"Of course I do, your voice is orgasmic." Shepard muttered, a blush rising in her cheeks. "Go flap your adorable mandibles around. Go ruin someone's innocence. I hear that Counselor Troi is pretty open to new cultures."

"Hmm," Garrus mused. "I'm not leaving until I get a goodnight kiss, though." He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms.

"I will shut this door on you." Shepard threatened, her finger hovering over the control.

"Won't work," Garrus replied, a smug look on his face, "I already tried to murder Jack earlier. She was talking shit about my fringe. Now come on, just a little kiss and I'll leave."

"Nope." Shepard said, attempting to push past him, as he dug his heels into the carpeted floor, crouching down like a linebacker, blocking her path. "Out of the way Garrus, I have to go talk to the captain."

"Oh, I see now," Garrus said, his eyes narrowing in mock offense."You've got a thing for French captains."

"Ugh, god no. First of all, fuck you, secondly he's like 80," Shepard said, grimacing, "and thirdly, fuck you."

"Hmm, interesting choice of words." Garrus whispered.

"Garrus, if you don't get out of my way, I'll go get it on, hot and nasty, with commander Riker, and tell you all about it later." Shepard threatened.

Garrus hesitated. "You wouldn't."

"Oh I will," Shepard said, a cruel grin forming. "I'll tell him just how sexy I think his beard is, then I'll rip off his idiotic shirt and-"

Garrus leaped backward out of the doorway. "Okay, you can go, on the condition that you not talk to that idiot."

Shepard stepped calmly out into the corridor. "Aww, that's the Gare-Bear I fell in lust with." She stood on her toes, kissed him on the corner of one of his mandibles, and walked away, swaying her hips far more than was necessary, knowing Garrus was watching.

* * *

"Come!" The muffled voice called, from within the personal quarters of Captain Jean Luc Picard.

Shepard suppressed a snicker at the numerous ways to take that out of context, and stepped inside. Captain Picard was still in his duty uniform, sitting at a low table, the faint sound of one of Beethoven's later concertos flowing from an invisible speaker system.

"Commander," he greeted, looking up with interest. "I'm glad you could join me. I have heard a little about where you come from, and am eager to hear more."

"Of course," Shepard answered, taking a seat across from him. "I would like to thank you again, for the assistance with the Borg, the hospitality, and the help repairing our ship."

"Naturally," Picard said, "While our purpose in this sector is to monitor and report on Borg activity, it is always the mandate of Starfleet, that we initiate contact with other species, when in accordance with the Prime Directive."

"Your ship is impressive." Shepard offered, not sure where else to take this vaguely uncomfortable conversation. "This is far beyond anything the Alliance could ever build."

"I admit that I glanced at the scans of your Normandy with some interest." Picard admitted. "While the technology is not as advanced, the engineering principles and the application of your resources are fascinating. Furthermore, I believe that the Federation could greatly benefit from such technology. Would you be willing to let us run a level 4 scan of your vessel? In exchange, I am prepared to give you a complete copy of our declassified technological database, as well as a set of replicators for your ship."

Shepard decided to play it cool, and pretend to think it over. "I'll have to speak with my command staff, but I agree for now. I am curious about these replicators though. You're telling me that they can make anything, food, spare parts, whatever?"

Picard smiled a little, standing and stepping to the replicator, recessed into the wall.

"Tea, Earl Gray, 95 degrees, 200 milliliters."

A faint buzz sounded from inside the box, as a cup of steaming tea materialized.

Shepard's eyebrows went together, as Picard withdrew his beverage, taking a sip.

"So it can replicate anything?" She asked again.

"Yes, provided it has the chemical and structural composition." Picard answered.

"Anything whatsoever?"

"Yes."

"And you use it to make Earl Gray?" Shepard questioned, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Is there something wrong with Earl Gray?" Picard asked, sitting back down.

"I'm sure it goes great with your Ramen noodles." Shepard muttered, getting up and examining the replicator with interest.

"A dry martini, in a deep champagne goblet." Shepard said, hesitantly.

"There are 23,584 combinations of dry martini, and deep champagne goblets in the databanks," the ship's computer responded tonelessly. "Please specify."

"Cancel previous request," Shepard told it. "Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Serve it shaken, with ice, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel, 250 milliliters total."

The replicator glowed orange, and her drink appeared in a large martini glass.

"That's quite a drink," Picard said, a faint not of disapproval in his voice.

"Now I just need to think of a name for it." Shepard muttered, plucking the glass from the replicator.

* * *

"The Turian biology is fascinating," Dr. Beverly Crusher said, leaning forward over the small, round, table. "almost as fascinating as your culture."

Garrus and Doctor Crusher sat in 10-Forward, the designated lounge of the Enterprise. The milky green nebula outside shone with the light of the stars inside it, filling the spacious room with a minty light. There were about 15 people present, most either paired off, holding hands and displaying other signs of personal affection, or at the bar. It was rapidly approaching the night cycle, and most of the crew was either already returning to their quarters, or already had plans for the evening.

Garrus had made a few attempts at chatting up the female crew, which either ended with his intended target leaving, after an unintentional sexual reference, or after an explanation that they just didn't find him attractive.

Neither one was doing much for his ego.

With the percentage of still single females dropping quickly, he noticed Dr. Crusher sitting alone at a table near the window, and pounced. Now, victory was certain.

"The atmosphere on the ship is interesting." Garrus said, Beverly Crusher hanging on his every word, spellbound. "Turian ships are much different."

"Really," She whispered, wide eyed, taking another sip of her green drink, "how so?"

"The crews are kept to a tighter standard of discipline during the day, but our commanders know that we need to blow off steam. Sparring contests are quite common."

"I imagine your chief medical officers don't approve of that." Crusher said, brushing an errant strand of hair back toward her neat bun.

"They understand." Garrus answered, tension filling his subvocals, as he approached the critical point. "In fact I ended up sparring with one of our medics once. Brutal fight, twelve rounds. She had speed and flexibility, and I had reach and strength."

"So who won?" Crusher asked, Garrus noticing the way her eyes roamed over his smooth armor, his scarred face, the way her hand slid ever so slightly toward his, where it sat on the table.

She's scoped and dropped, Garrus thought, this is almost too easy.

"A draw." He continued. "Quite a few people were unhappy. They had bet on it, you see. We ended up having the tiebreaker in-"

"Engineering to Dr. Crusher." a voice sounded from the internal comms. "Ensign Wesley Crusher is interfering in the proper functioning of the antimatter flow regulators, and is attempting to install a flow capacitor of his own design, without de-activating the field emitters."

"Not again Wesley," Beverley sighed, finishing her drink and standing up. "That boy will never learn. It was nice talking to you, Garrus."

Garrus stared blankly after her, as she turned and left, without so much as a glance back.

"Either I have the worst luck in the galaxy," he muttered to himself, "Or her son just ruins everything he touches."

* * *

About 8 meters away, Jack sat at the bar, in a leather jacket and gray cargo pants, drinking her fifth glass of prune juice, the green light of the nebula giving her tattoos a ghostly appearance.

"It's just that, I've never been able to have a normal fucking conversation with anyone." Jack confessed, taking a sip of the purple juice. "I mean, until a few years ago, my life had been a journey from one prison cell to the next. And I was fine with it. It was better than what those Cerberus assholes did to me when I was growing up."

"You've been through enough to break most people," Guinan said, her flowing orange robes rustling, as she poured Jack a fresh prune juice. "You just need some practice. Have you ever had a relationship."

"I get drunk and find some muscled dude to sleep with every now and then." Jack answered, hunching over the bar.

"That's not a relationship." Guinan chided her. "You've never had a boyfriend, or even a casual friend that you had feelings for?"

"Shepard has been the only person who ever gave a shit about me." Jack said, a faint note of bitterness in her voice. "Everyone else either stares at my tits, or ignores me. No time for ex-cons."

Guinan sighed. "I think what you need to do, is start a casual relationship. Find yourself a friend, someone trustworthy, someone you like."

"And sleep with him?" Jack asked, incredulously, "Like more than once?"

"Actually, I meant that you should just make a friend." Guinan corrected. "But now that you mention it, I think if you play your cards right, you may be able to kill two birds with one stone."

"What the hell are you on about?" Jack inquired.

"How do you feel about, oh" Guinan paused a moment, thinking, "what are they called, Turians, that's right. How do you feel about Turians."

"They're assholes." Jack muttered, finishing her prune juice. "Well, Garrus is okay, we never talked much, but he wasn't a complete douche to me. Except earlier, when he tried to shut me in a door."

Guinan beamed in triumph. "As it happens, your new best friend, Garrus, is sitting at a table behind you, having just struck out with most of the female crew."

Jack glanced back, seeing the morose Turian sitting alone, staring dejectedly out the window. She considered him, for a long moment, the way his fringe came together at the back of his head, the way he looked like the monster from Predator, the way his mandibles clicked when he got excited, the way his mannerisms were so human, despite his alien features, the way he wore his armor every second of every day, the way the light from the window silhouetted him.

Eventually, she turned back to Guinan, sliding her empty glass across the bar. Guinan gave her an inquisitive look, as she took the glass.

"I think you're the best fucking bartender ever." Jack muttered quietly, as she stood, and headed toward Garrus.

"Always glad to help," Guinan murmured, more to herself than Jack, smiling a little as she saw the two supremely awkward individuals interacting.

* * *

"It's awesome," Grunt whispered, his voice low and heavy with excitement and admiration. "can I touch it?"

"You are not a Klingon," Worf said, "but you have the makings of a great warrior. Be careful with it."

Grunt gingerly took the Bat'Leth from Worf, testing the balance of the curved, two handed blade, stepping around the confined of the Holo-Deck, which was blank and displayed only the dull orange grid pattern, taking a few practice swings.

"It works better on an opponent." Worf stated, amused at the massive Krogan's excitement. "Computer, generate sparring opponent, melee combat, difficulty level 3.

A featureless blue figure winked into existence, it's form generally humanoid, like a faceless mannequin. It held a long baton in it's left hand, and it advanced on Grunt, taking up a combat stance.

Grunt effortlessly parried it's first overhand blow, sidestepping a second, ramming his shoulder into his opponent's back, the force of the impact knocking the blue figure to the floor. He stepped forward, kicking away it's baton away, and ramming the tip of the Bat'Leth into it's chest, the holographic opponent promptly vanishing.

"You wield the Bat'Leth like a trained warrior." Worf said, impressed with the Krogan's skill. "Perhaps two opponents would be more appropriate."

"Actually, I have something else in mind." Grunt said, flicking his omni to life. "Can your fancy Holo-Deck create a simulation thing, based on stuff from my hard drive?"

"Yes," Worf answered, "Provided the data is detailed enough to provide a framework for the simulation. Computer, generate a second Bat'Leth, identical to the first."

As the weapon materialized in Worf's grip, Grunt muttered a few choice curses, fumbling with the omni tool, which was clearly not made for his thick, Krogan fingers. Finally, he accessed the program labeled, XBOX emulator. After a few more keystrokes, the ship's computer responded.

"Processing data... Simulation accepted, rendering now... Rendering complete."

"Begin simulation." Worf said.

The walls and ceiling disappeared, replaced by a majestic mountain plain, a primitive city in the distance, the hammering of an anvil audible across the empty, grassy plain.

They stood on a narrow dirt trail, leading toward the city, the other direction terminating in an arched, stone, bridge.

"What is the purpose of this simulation?" Worf asked, looking around. It was not without it's appeal, he certainly wouldn't mind scaling those mountains in the distance, that at least, looked like a worthy challenge.

"You see that necklace, laying on the side of the road?" Grunt whispered, nearly bursting with excitement, swinging the Bat'Leth in preparation for what was to come.

Worf stepped closer, seeing that there was indeed, a delicate gold necklace, laying on the side of the road, as if dropped by a passing traveler.

"Yes, I see it." He answered, hesitant.

"Pick it up." Grunt said, nearly squeaking with barely contained excitement.

Worf pinched the thin gold chain between thumb and forefinger, lifting it for a closer look.

"It seems to be an ordinary necklace." Worf muttered, looking to Grunt for clarification.

But then a man, sword drawn, wearing full plate armor, sprinted over a nearby hill, heading toward the Klingon and the Krogan.

"STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!" He shouted. "PAY YOUR FINE OR-"

Grunt lunged forward, sinking his Bat'Leth deep into the man's shoulder, who dropped to the ground in a rattle of clanking armor.

"I am confused." Worf said, still holding the necklace.

"Just kill some shit!" Grunt roared, his deep throated laugh echoing through the fields.

"But why do we-" Worf started.

"Well well well," said another man, in similar armor, from behind Worf. "look what we have here. Caught in the act, and no gold to pay your fine."

Worf snarled, spinning to launch a vicious kick into the guard's chest, knocking him to the ground, as more of his comrades charged up the narrow path.

"This is the part, where you fall down and bleed to death!" a guard shouted, stepping forward to do battle with Grunt, his shield up.

Worf finished off his opponent, and ran forward to help Grunt. Chaos ensued, as more of the guards streamed from all directions.

"I've met mudcrabs that were more fearsome than you!"

"Today is a good day to die!"

"What's the matter, did someone steal your sweetroll?"

"I AM KROGAN!"

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Yes, Worf and Grunt are playing Elder Scrolls in the Holo-Deck. If anyone's head exploded from awesomeness, I apologize.

In the way that the TV show used the Holo-Deck to throw in some Sherlock Holmes episodes, I was thinking to do something similar. But maybe with something different. Maybe Game of Thrones. I could see a few chapters dedicated to Shepard and crew, stuck in the Holo-Deck, safety protocols deactivated, playing Walking Dead, or something.

The Normandy crew is not going to spend the entire story trolling the Enterprise. They will soon be on their way, back to their own adventures. Who knows what they'll find out there.

Speaking of which, I have an idea for something resembling a plot. More on that later.

Please read and review. As always, story suggestions are welcome. Most of this chapter happened because of story suggestions. Actually, most of this story happened because of story suggestions. Thanks everybody that had input.

Oh, and a big thanks to Lachdannen for helping with the previous chapter.


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